Unplugged
by Tashilover
Summary: His services were no longer needed. So they shut him off. Half a century later, he wakes up and finds OCP had destroyed the world.
1. Chapter 1

His head felt heavy. He wanted to lift it up, to open his eyes, but none of his body parts were responding. He knew he had arms and legs, but they lay dead at his sides, all feeling gone out of him.

He heard mumbling; voices from different people. They were close, but they were too quiet to be distinguish between man or woman. He couldn't move, but his head nodded from left to right in a rhythm manner. He was in a moving vehicle.

His eyes finally open. His systems went online, his sight cleared, and he lifted his head up.

He was right. He was in a moving vehicle. The truck resembled a riot police rammer, with closed lock doors at the back and front. He could see the sources of the voices sitting in the front seats, their heads blurred by the closed screen.

He wanted to stand up, but his body wouldn't let him. His arms and legs were strapped to the chair he sat in, the chair strapped to the floor.

Where was he? What was going on?

"It's awake. Perfect."

His head, going slowly to take in his environment suddenly snapped to the side. Squatting at the corner where the light barely touched, sat a young boy. He was probably thirteen, fifteen, tops. His short blonde hair matted down upon his head, his clothes dirty and torn. The boy held himself tightly, blood seeping down his arm and onto the floor.

Second objective: Protect the innocent.

"You've been hurt," He finally said, his voice hard and sharp. "Who did that to you?"

The boy scowled at him. His hand tighten around his arm harder, exposing more blood had soaked into his clothes. "Like you really care…"

The boy was certainly upset about something. He seemed more scared than angry, for he was shaking from head to toe.

"Have we been kidnapped?" He asked the boy. "Are we in trouble?"

The boy didn't respond quickly. He just stared at the man in the chair, holding his bleeding arm with a confused look on his face.

"You are an android…right?" The boy asked him.

That was certainly an odd question. What's an android?

"I'm not an android," The man in the chair said. "I'm a cyborg."

The boy's eyes went wide. "Holy shit!" The boy cried out, getting up. "You're a cyborg? But…you…you can't be one! You're too old looking."

That's insulting.

"No, wait," The boy spoke again, realizing his mistake. "I mean, your model. It's too old. Nobody walks around with so much obvious metal!"

The boy still wasn't making sense, but at least he was talking.

"Have we been kidnapped?" The cyborg asked again. "Are we in trouble?"

"Yeah," The boy said, a bit calmer now that he found out his companion wasn't an android. "We've been arrested."

"Arrested?" The cyborg said surprised. "By the police?"

The boy gave him a strange stare. "Yeah, by the police. Nobody else would do such a thing."

The feeling of apprehension was rising up in the cyborg's stomach, anxiety filling his brain. "Why are we being arrested? For what crime?"

"Damn, you ask a lot of questions," The boy told him, still rubbing his bleeding shoulder. "Are you even from around here?"

"Detroit."

"Detroit?" The boy said wildly. "You mean, Old Detroit? The city that got destroyed twenty years ago?"

If the cyborg had a fully working stomach, it would've twisted and fell to the ground. From behind his protective shielding, his eyes grew wide, his mouth twisted in horror and his fingers twitched violently. The cyborg's arid behavior forced the boy to take a step back in fear.

"Destroyed?" The cyborg finally cried out in amidst horror. "How? Why?"

The boy shrugged. "I think it was the bomb. Or disease. It was twenty years ago, who cares?"

It's been twenty years? Perhaps more? How long had he been in stasis mode?

"Get me out of this chair," The cyborg said ragged to the child. "Hurry."

Without hesitation, the boy strode forward, grasping at the bonds that held the cyborg in the chair. Within a few moments, he had loosen both wrists and ankles. The boy stepped back to let the cyborg stand fully up, the top of his head banging against the ceiling.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh!" The boy cried out, motioning to the front of the vehicle. "They'll hear you!"

'They' had not noticed a thing. They either had to be deaf or stupid not to notice. Or choose not to notice.

The cyborg did a quick inspection. He opened up his thigh compartment, finding his gun was not there. He looked towards his knuckle key, dirty, but usable. His programming was still effective, as well his targeting system.

The cyborg took a look back at the two oblivious individuals who were still talking to each other. He saw them as no threat. His eyes shifted to the boy, who still held his injured arm.

"Come here," The cyborg told him, opening his arms. "I'll soften the blow."

"Soften the blow?" The boy questioned. "What do you mean?"

The cyborg showed him. With a quick jab from his fist, the doors to the vehicle blew wide open. The road below flew past in amazing speed, the wind blowing up the boy's hair.

"We're jumping," Explained the cyborg.

The boy's eyes went wide. "Are you kidding!" He yelled. "We'll be killed!"

The cyborg stayed in the same position, his arms wide open like he was expecting a hug. The boy, looking between jumping or staying with 'them,' he rushed into the cyborg's arms.

They jumped.

The cyborg made sure he landed on his back, to keep the boy from hurting himself further. The vehicle was going at least forty, making the landing very, very hard.

The cyborg smacked against the street, his metal back creating sparks. He bounced one, twice, three times before he started to skid and scream. He slowed, the friction forcing him to roll in a fast manner. Under his large arms he cradled the boy from the sparks and flying debris.

They eventually rolled to a stop, smoke sizzling off the grazed metal. The cyborg was glad they stopped. If they had been going any faster, he might have lost his arm in the impact.

Slowly, he opened his arms to release the boy, who was trembling uncontrollably.

"Are you hurt?" The cyborg asked him.

The boy shook his head. He rolled himself off the cyborg, standing up awkwardly. Although he said he was not hurt, he still got injured. The impact on the street must have forced him to bang his head against the metal chest, causing him to have a huge bruise across his cheek.

"I can't believe you did that!" He cried out, still wobbly from the shock. "You could've killed us both!"

He paused.

"Cool!"

The cyborg had to restrain giving the boy a look as he stood tall, checking himself over for damage. He had large rusty scratches all over his arms, legs and probably his back too. None of which were too serious, could probably be rubbed out easily.

The vehicle they escaped from was already forming into a small black dot in the horizon. Finally outside, the cyborg took in his environment.

It was day, but dark rainy clouds had blocked out the sun, making the wind warm and cold at the same time. It seemed they were standing right outside city limits, for he could see the tall buildings from far away as he stood on a highway. The highway in question, was empty. No car could be seen or heard. Not even trash like old wheels or thrown soda cups laid on the side.

Not even a cigarette bud. The cyborg looked to the city, looked to the sky, and realized there were no signs or life. No birds, no trash, nobody. Even the city that laid only a few miles away looking dark and uninviting, amiss of human life. Why?

His thoughts were broken when the boy tugged impatiently on his arm.

"C'mon!" He cried out, trying to get him to move. "If we're caught here after sundown, then we're dead!"

Usually, when someone said that, they were over exaggerating, but the boy said like he meant it. Moving his large feet, he followed the boy silently.

The boy never removed his hand from his metal fingers, oddly very possessive of someone they just met. Why is that?

"What is your name?" The boy asked quietly, his voice very loud against the odd silence.

"Murphy," The cyborg finally told him, trudging along behind. "What's yours?"

"Umm, it's Red," The boy told him. "My real name is Redgina, but nobody ever calls me that! Not even you!"

"Redgina…" Murphy said slowly. "That's a girl's name."

Red stared at him. For a moment, Murphy did not get it. When he did, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment, for himself and Red.

"Oh. Sorry."

Red shook her head. "Doesn't matter. Probably best that way. C'mon, we got a long way to go till we get home."

How strange this girl barely knew Murphy for an hour and already she was leading him to her home. Without even trying, he had gain this girl's trust; enough to hold her life in his hands.

What the hell happened to make the world, this child, act like this?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

A/N: Love this movie. Don't expect many reviews. Second chapter whenever. Fragments everywhere.

Anyhoo, R/R!


	2. Chapter 2

There is nothing scarier than walking into a city and finding nothing.

No trash, no stray animals, no insects. The ground wasn't even slightly covered by bird feces or discarded gum. The city looked almost brand-new, as if the government built it and is now waiting for people to inhabit it.

Red obviously had no qualms on how empty the city is. She kept urging Murphy on, wanting him to walk a bit faster.

"C'mon," She said quietly, tugging at the cyborg's large hand.

Murphy tried to please her, but it's hard to walk around with 300 pounds worth of metal. His knees, ankles and feet were equipped to handle such extremities, but as a result, his footing is slow and hard.

Red kept staring into the sky, fearfully watching the sun. With the high rises, the sun was only shown through the spaces between, giving patches of light from time to time. Even though the sun wouldn't officially set for another hour, it'll be night time in the city within twenty minutes.

"Over here," Red said, taking to a particular gothic built building. "Up here."

She had brought him to a library. Murphy had to watch his footing as he climbed the ridiculously large amount of stairs, noting there were no handrails or ramp for the handicap. Up front, Red pulled hard on the large dark brown tinted doors, using her small frame to hold it open for Murphy. "In here. Hurry."

Once inside, Murphy's semi-loud footsteps echoed off the walls in the empty library. There were books, large hardbacks donning the twelve foot bookcases. But like the city, the library held no signs of life.

Even though they were now inside, Red kept urging Murphy on. Taking him to another staircase, she explained, "They'll find us if we stay downstairs. The second floor is the only place that can fully cover us."

What she meant by that, Murphy didn't know.

Upstairs was the same as downstairs. The only difference was the change of bookcase arrangements. Downstairs, the bookcase ends faced the windows. Upstairs, the whole face of bookcases laid towards the windows, letting a person to hide behind them.

"Behind here," Red led him behind one of the large bookcases. There, Murphy finally saw human life.

On the ground, tucked in the corner, laid blankets and makeshift pillows. Red's bed, he assumed. On the walls of the bookcases, she tucked in ripped out pages of pictures. Pictures of other people, animals, places, things.

Even upstairs and beside Red's bed, she didn't calm down. As Murphy noticed, the sun was finally gone. The library was sent into complete black, forcing him to turn on his night vision visor.

"Don't move!" Red hissed at him. "Don't make any loud noises."

Murphy, his curiosity at its' peaked almost made him asked her why. He stopped himself when he heard the loud noise of helicopters above him.

The fevered beating of the metal blades were a welcoming sound to him, but Red did not. She covered her ears as the sound seemed to rattle the windows. The library suddenly exploded into light as the unidentified copter shown it's beams inside. The lights raked across the library in a slow manner.

Red stayed perfectly still when the lights touched their area, but because of the books, they were not seen.

After a long painful minute, the lights finally left. Red breathed easily again.

Now that the apparent danger had left, Murphy looked down upon his young companion. "Your arm," He noted. "It's still bleeding."

Red turned to her shoulder. She lifted up the sleeve of her shirt, revealing the horrible wound underneath. Murphy, who was coming in closer to help, suddenly stepped back in surprise.

It looked like someone ripped out a large part of flesh from her shoulder. Instead of muscle and bone, silver metal shone through. The flow of 'blood' was spewing out of a ruptured hose. Her arm was artificial.

"I was born with only one arm," Red explained, seeing the look on Murphy's face. "So my parents got me this one." She raised her robotic arm higher, the movement causing more red liquid to spew out the open hose. She frowned. Taking a small canister that sat beside her pile of blankets, she sprayed a small amount of white foam onto her shoulder.

The foam quickly dried and set, setting a perfect seal around the open hose.

"Darn," Red cursed, wiping her arm of the blood. "I lost so much fluid. Now it's going to be a bitch to move this arm."

"Your parents," Murphy inquired, hoping to finally get some answers. "Where are they?"

"Dead," Red said flatly, almost without any remorse or sorrow. "At least, I think they are. They were napped by the androids three years ago."

Three years ago! She's been alone this long? The city has been like this for that long?

Longer?

"You don't know if they're dead?" Murphy cried out. "Red…I need to know what is going on. What are androids? Why is this city deserted? Are there other people here? Why is this all happening?"

Red, amazingly, just shrugged. "I don't know. Things been this way since as long as I can remember."

Murphy couldn't believe his ears. It's been this way for more than ten years?

He looked around, staring dubiously at the hundreds and hundreds of books sitting around on the shelves. She was surrounded by fifty thousand pages worth of information and history. How could she not know?

He picked up a book. Flipped through it. The book was a simple study on horses, but the text was written in standard English. He flipped to the front page where he saw the title, author and copyright. Date: 1962.

"You can read?"

Murphy looked at Red, who was staring at him with pure awe and admiration. She stood up, clamoring over her bed and things to get to him. "You can read the things that are written here?"

That answered one question.

Red didn't let him answer her. Instead, she ran over to one of the pictures that were hanging around her bed, grabbed it, and shoved it under his nose.

"What does this say?" Red said excitably, pointing to the text written underneath a picture of a colorful bird. "I've been wondering what this says for the longest time!"

Murphy frowned. The text was written in French. He failed French in high school.

"Red," He began slowly. "What's two plus two?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, going down in concentration. She then lifted up her hands and began counting on her fingers. "One, two, three, four…Four."

After a few more questions, Murphy found out Red can only count up to twenty. Not only could she not read, but she also did not know the names of the animals in her pictures. She didn't know what a dog was.

Murphy gave up on asking for any information. Obviously, everything that happened here, happened a long time ago. If he wanted answers, he needed to ask somebody who was much older than her.

"Is it okay for me to walk around now?" Murphy asked, wanting to go check out the history books and past newspapers.

Red said no. "They'll have patrollers walking the street. If you go anywhere near that staircase, you'll be seen. You'll have to wait till morning. Here," She was gathering a bunch of blankets from a pile and dragging them over to Murphy. "I don't know if cyborgs need to keep warm, but you can make yourself a bed with them."

"I don't need sleep," He told her. Which is true. He needed to rest, but not sleep. "You keep those for yourself."

"Okay then," She said, slightly disappointed. "Good night."

She slandered off to her little corner. There, she took another book, flipped through it and ripped out a page. She had ripped out a picture of a cockroach. She mounted the picture among her others, stared at it for a moment and went to sleep.

It couldn't have been no later than six o' clock. Murphy hadn't gone to bed at six since he was fifteen. But he couldn't do much. He didn't want to move, seeing his giant clongging steps would awake Red.

So there he sat silently in the dark. He kept an open ear out for any possible intruders. Although that may be a welcome sight, to see another human being, it was not wise.

He thought about his last memory before he woke up in that van. Where was he? What was he doing?

Why couldn't he remember?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

A/N: Just for future reference, I never saw Robocop2. Mostly because every time I try to watch it, I turn it off half way through.

Number three made me laugh.

Anyhoo, R/R!


	3. Chapter 3

Murphy watched as the sun slowly rose into the sky, casting various shadows across the library floor. The light usually represented warmth, safety, and most importantly, hope. Murphy couldn't count how many times he and many other cops wanted the daylight shifts; it was less likely to get shot during the day than night.

But at the moment, Murphy didn't care if it was day, night, or a solar eclipse was going on. All he wanted was NOISE. He wanted to hear birds, dogs, cats. He wanted to hear the familiar sounds of horns honking, tires screeching, and even the colorful curses from various minorities. Children's laughter, incoherent muttering, anything that'll keep him from going deaf.

The silence, however, did give him an unusual amount of ability to think. Of what should he do next, where he should go, what to do if he got there…his plan was simple. Go to Detroit's sister city, Keyward, and go from there. Unfortunately, the only major drawback was Red. He couldn't leave her behind, but bringing her might slow him down.

The decision was easy. Red may not have book smarts, she does have street smarts. Murphy couldn't leave her behind. He himself was a father and knew the pain of a child when left alone.

That thought struck him in the gut like a knife. He may have an artificial stomach, but his mind reacted as if he did. Phantom limbs, he guessed.

Was a father…? Murphy didn't want to think about it. About his son and his wife. How many years has it really been? If it's been really as long as Red said…then that means his son was his age by now. His wife, if she was still alive, would be in her fifties.

If it had been longer than twenty years, then she is probably dead.

He was going in for a hearing. Yes, he did remember that. A few days earlier, he had cornered a perpetrator and was forced to kill him. Murphy's superiors thought he may have gone overboard and should've found a way to arrest the punk without blasting a hole through his chest. Murphy didn't think so. And with his video memory, he proved it.

Others, those who never saw crime in their lives, felt that Murphy still should've found a way to solve it peacefully. They were the ones who believed murderers should be given a second chance.

The argument went on for months. There were protestors, constant debates and Murphy was forced to go into court a few times. In the end, some nut job had pointed out that as a cyborg, Murphy wasn't technically human. Thus, he should not have the same rights as humans.

After that…everything becomes fuzzy. Murphy could not remember the outcome. He could not remember what happened next.

He could guess though. He lost.

Red stirred in her sleep, flipping over onto her back. Her shoulder wound was more obvious now in the light. Artificial limbs for the common man. Things have come a long way.

Being cautious, he stepped as quietly as his body would allow him, and made his way to Red. The girl slept so deeply Murphy almost felt guilty for waking her. He placed his giant hand on her and shook her. "Red…Red…"

Red did not stir. In a split panic, Murphy thought the girl to be dead when suddenly a small bottle rolled from underneath the blankets. Inside the clear plastic, Murphy could easily see the unknown vitamins and read off the title.

"Sleeping pills?" He stated dubiously. As Murphy thought he had figured out his current situation, something as ridiculous like this pops up.

Red didn't know how to read…so how did she know these pills, specifically were sleeping pills? The damn girl might have accidentally picked a bottle of cyanide or testosterone pills. Did she think these pills were candy or was there something more to it?

Either way, there was no way Murphy was going to be able to question Red about it. She was now in a medical induced coma and it could be hours before she woke up again.

Just the way he used to tuck in his son, Murphy tucked in Red. And without looking back, he set out to find real answers and other people.

Murphy decided he should go to one place: The Police Headquarters. If he wanted updated information, the police was sure place to go. He could find alphabetized files, photos, addresses and phone numbers. Everything he needed, they had. He'll go to Keyward with Red tomorrow.

Wincing at the sound of his own steps, Officer Alex Murphy stepped out into the outside world to find it the same as yesterday: Isolated. The cyborg has never admitted to anyone but his wife, that he was afraid of cats. When he was a boy of seven years, Murphy's father had brought home a stray kitten. The kitten, although cute and cuddly, thought young Alex to be a scratching post and used him often. To this day, (Up until he traded in his flesh for steel) the officer had long ugly scars on his legs and back. He pretended they were stretch marks.

Now as he walked through the dead city, he would welcome even the sight of that evil kitten and his evil family.

After what seemed an hour of walking, Murphy felt the grip of guilt settled in his artificial stomach. The smart thing to have done was brought Red along with him. Awake or not, this city was obvious no place to leave a little girl behind.

He was ready to turn around to go back to the library when suddenly his sensors beeped. Murphy stilled as he read that four assailants were quietly surrounding him. They carried large bulky weapons like clubs and crowbars and were slowly cutting off Murphy's exit.

As relieved as he was, finally seeing other signs of life, Murphy activated his tracking program. These persons were hostile and did not deserved the kind words the officer had for them.

One of them charged at him, raising the weapon high. Murphy's arm swing around and knocked the punk right on his ass. As soon as that happened, the other three joined the brawl. A piece of wood snapped across the cyborg's neck, and a pipe smacked against his right arm. Neither, of course, injured or even scratched the surface of the cybrog's armor. With another swipe, Murphy knocked the two men down without causing them much harm.

The fourth man did not attack him. Instead, he seemed to slump to Murphy's feet as if he fainted. When the officer looked down, he saw the man wasn't a man, but a teenager. Black hair and unbelievably handsome, the kid looked up at the cyborg, gave a wink and ran off. The damn kid had tied a rope around his ankle.

Before the officer had a chance to bend down and rip the rope off, the teenager and six others appeared out of nowhere, grabbed the rope and pulled.

Murphy went down like a house of cards. As soon as he was on his back, he was dog piled. Guys jumped down on his arms, his legs, and even held his head still. "Tie him down!" The teen was yelling on top of the pile. "Get his arms! Quickly!"

There were three men on each arm and Murphy easily threw them off. Men were scrabbling to keep him down while others were trying to beat his chest in with rocks or other blunt objects.

"Damn! Hold him! Hold him!" The teenager kept yelling.

Murphy gritted his teeth as he prepared himself to hurt these men. He didn't want to, but he had no other choice. He thought perhaps, stabbing them in the foot. The wound won't leave permanent damage, but it'll disable them long enough for Murphy to take control of the situation.

"Get off him! What are you doing?"

Red appeared in Murphy's view and she started pulling the men off by their shirts. She only used her right arm as her artificial left one laid limp at her side. "Leave him alone! Stop it!"

"He's an android!" The teen yelled back. "We need to destroy him!"

"He's not an android! He's a cyborg! He is just like me!"

Red was yelling, but nobody was listening. She was trying her hardest to pull the men off, though it was rather useless. She was a sixty pound kid trying to pull off a 140 pound man.

Murphy did not want to show gore in front of her. The decision, however, was not his to make.

Red kept tugging on the shirt of one of the men who held Murphy's head down. The man was getting tired of the girl bothering him and at the height of frustration (perhaps because he could not concentrate on holding Murphy down with her distracting him) he threw a hand out and shoved her.

The man had shoved her a bit too hard. Red fell back and her artificial arm, unable to control the movement, bent awkwardly behind her. There was a SNAP then a horrible CRUNCH. And when Red sat back up, she revealed her robotic arm had snapped off from the elbow down.

As a cop, Murphy had seen some pretty gruesome scenes. Murders, hit-and-runs, rape…and he was able to hold his stomach and his anger for every act of violence he's seen. However, if there was one thing he could not tolerate, was violence against children.

Had the cyborg waited for a second, he would have notice the teenager's face looking horrified at what happened to Red. If he waited.

Adrenaline reserves shot in and Murphy's brain went into a power high. All together, there were twelve men trying to hold him down. Murphy threw them all off with ease.

Those who managed to hang on, were grabbed and thrown. Those who tried to jump back on, met with a fist in their face. Within half a minute, Murphy had all twelve men, lying on their back and moaning.

The teenager, who was smart enough to back off, was the only one standing. His eyes shifted back and forth from the cyborg to Red, his legs twitching as if he was about to run.

Murphy read his body but wasn't fast enough to intercept. The boy dashed forward, grabbed Red around the waist, and ran off in the opposite direction.

"Damn!" Murphy cried, taking off after them.

For him, running was just as hard as walking. He only ran when he needed to and that did not happen very often. The weight of his armor restricted him significantly and he was only allowed small bursts of energy once in a while. If most of the criminals he had gone up against had chosen to run instead of fight, his arrest record would be very low. Luckily for him, the teenager was just as slow because of Red. The girl was heavy enough to give anyone problems and she fought against the boy.

Suddenly the teenager stopped in his tracks. He set down Red, and then twisted around to met Murphy. The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife.

Murphy slowed and stopped. The knife wasn't a threat to him, his knuckle key was probably much pointier, but the boy decided to use it on Red…

"Put the knife down," The cyborg commanded. And then for good measure, he added, "punk."

The boy held Red's fleshy arm by the wrist and the girl struggled against him. "He's a cyborg, Robin!" She yelled. "He's human!"

"It just another one of their tricks!" The boy, Robin, cried to her. "It may look human, but it's just another one of their tricks!"

With that, Murphy realized the boy wasn't there to hurt Red. He was trying to protect her…from him. He decided to take a step forward.

Robin saw this and raised the knife. "Get back android! Get back!"

"I am not an android, I am a cyborg," Murphy stated, taking another step forward. "My name is Alex Murphy," He took another step. "I am not an 'it," Another step. "And if you don't release Red from your sweaty grasp, I'm going to be forced to hurt you."

Murphy took another step. Robin had sweat running down his face, looking determined and scared at the same time. His hand shook, the knife shook and when Murphy got a bit too close for comfort, Robin attacked.

His arm went in an upward arc, trying to slash Murphy's exposed flesh below his helmet. The cyborg blocked the knife with his arm. The knife, cheaply made as it was, broke in half against Murphy's huge arm and fell to the ground.

Murphy grabbed Robin by the shirt and lifted him off the ground. He brought the boy close to his face and hissed, "I told you I would get mean."

He dropped Robin none-too-gently, emphasizing his point. His eyes went to Red. "Are you okay?" He asked her.

She nodded, though she didn't look very happy. She was frowning, not crying, and she held her half arm gingerly. She sat on the ground because without her arm, her balance was off. "You didn't need to do that, Murphy," She told him unhappily. "Robin is my friend."

"I know. That's why I didn't hurt him," Murphy went on one knee, coming face to face with Robin. "Do you understand now? I'm not here to hurt you."

"It's Red I'm afraid for," Robin breathed out. He didn't try to attack Murphy again, though he had the perfect angle to do so. "And if you were smart, you'll stay away."

"Red is a young girl living by herself," Murphy stated confused. "Why would I leave her alone?"

Fear exploded in the boy's eyes, and he clamped a hand over the cyborg's mouth. "Haven't you noticed? Don't you understand?"

Robin drew close to Murphy's ears and hissed dangerously to him. "Red is the only girl in a city full of men."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

A/N: Who are the androids? Why do they want Red? What happened to Detroit? Will I ever give a character a gender based name?

All this and more…later!

Anyhoo, R/R!


	4. Chapter 4

For once, Murphy didn't mind the silence. It seemed every time somebody opened their mouth, a new stream of information added to the confusion. The whole situation reminded him of the book _The hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy._ He had all the answers, he just didn't have the right question.

Red leaned in more comfortably on Murphy's shoulders. Without her arm, her equilibrium was thrown off completely. At first, she didn't mind sitting on top of Murphy's shoulder. But after ten minutes of having her legs wrapped around plastic and metal, her butt went numbed.

Robin stayed a few steps ahead of the two. After he dropped the bomb about Red, he suggested they go back to the library. To talk.

"What about those other men?" Murphy inquired. "If they follow-"

"They won't," Robin said as if he was 100 sure. "Most of them are complete idiots and will not bother trying to engage you in another fight."

Murphy did not like what he said. It did not sound fool proof. "They don't care about you? About Red?"

"I'll explain later. Not another word."

Robin's head kept twisting back and forth like a nervous bird. Murphy couldn't help but smile at that analogy. The boy didn't need to be so cautious. As far as the cyborg can tell, nobody was following them.

"Get inside," Robin commanded once they got to the library.

A twinge of annoyance struck Murphy. Having a teenager give orders is a big kick to the ego. He ignored the feeling, and did what he was told. He can be annoyed later.

Once inside and upstairs, Robin shut the second door floors. And without a word to explain his actions, Robin slapped Red hard across the face.

"What's wrong with you?" He cried. "Bringing another person here!"

"That's enough!" Murphy grabbed the boy by the cuff of his shirt. "You leave her alone."

"I'm sorry," Red murmured, cupping her red cheek. "Murphy isn't an android. I thought it was okay."

Robin did not try to struggle out of Murphy's grasp. The cyborg thought perhaps, Robin wanted somebody to hold him back from doing something unforgivable.

"Bringing somebody here is dangerous. You know that. Even if he isn't an android! Why did you do it?"

Tears started to form in Red's eyes. Shakily, she started to say, "I wanted to see the birds. I have never seen birds before…"

Robin seemed to have calmed down for the most part. Murphy still kept an grip on him just in case it was a ploy. For now, it seemed Robin wanted to hear Red out.

"The sun was nowhere near setting," Red continued, refusing to look up at them. "I thought if I was quick…I could see a feather. Hear a song. I never got further than the edge of the city. I was grabbed when a van drove by."

All the color drained out of Robin's face. "Let me go," He whispered, trying to loosen Murphy's grip on him. "Let me go!"

Murphy let him go. Robin fell to his knees, grabbing Red by the shoulders. "You were grabbed?" He said in disbelief. "Did they harm you? Did they," He struggled to find the words. "Do anything to you?"

Red shook her head. "They broke my arm when I resisted. Threw me in the back. That's where I found Murphy."

Robin twisted his head to the cyborg. Murphy said nothing as Robin gave him a condescending glare. Robin turned back to Red.

"Murphy woke up. And we escaped."

"All right," Robin said, trying very obviously to keep his anger down. "But why did you bring him back here? He can take care of himself."

Murphy had been wondering that himself. Although he was very grateful to find a friend the moment he woke up, he was never really sure of the girl's true intentions. In a city full of men, even for someone with no book smarts should surely know the dangers of men. Red's answer explained it all.

"I was lonely."

And that was it. All the anger Robin had stored up inside of him slowly drained away. Murphy watched as Robin's face relaxed and the fire died out. In a sense, he was more of a brother.

Was he?

Without another word, he pulled the young girl into a hug. "I'm so sorry," He whispered. "I'm sorry that it has to be like this, but if I stayed, it'll draw too much attention."

"What about Murphy?" Red pulled back, motioning her head towards him. "Can he stay?"

Murphy was actually going to say "no." Now that he knew Red wasn't alone in the city, he could leave without worrying about her. Robin seemed like a smart enough kid. Besides, he didn't planned to be gone any longer than a few hours.

Before he had a chance to say anything like that, Robin said to him, rather fiercely, "Let's go talk in the hall.

"Red, stay here," He said to her as he walked into the hallway.

Something was spooking him. Murphy chose to follow him without protest. The hallway itself wasn't as echoing as the rest of the library. The walls were dark brown, looking like a movie scene from the poem, _The Raven. _The sun shone brightly through the many windows it had. It didn't help with the mood, though.

Robin whipped around, facing Murphy and demanded, "Who are you?"

"Murphy," He said, getting a little tired of explaining himself. "I'm a police officer."

Robin's eye twitched when he said that. "Red said she found you in the van. Why were you with the androids?"

"I'm not. I woke up in the van. Found Red. And both of us escaped."

"So you're a cyborg."

"Yes. Most of my organs are artificial like Red's arm, but my brain and certain parts of my body are intact."

Robin nodded, his eyes drooping in concentration. Murphy chose this moment to ask HIS questions.

"What year is this?"

"What?" Robin said bewildered.

"What year is this?"

"I don't know. I can't count."

Great. Red mentioned that Detroit 'blew up' twenty years ago. For all he knew, she could've pulled that number from her ass.

"Who are the androids? Everybody keeps mentioning them and I have no idea who they are."

"How could you not know who they are?" Robin said in disbelief. "Where have you been, under a rock?"

"I told you, I woke up in the van. I have no idea how long I've been out."

Wither that answer satisfied him, he didn't show it. "They're robots. Robots that look like people."

"Why are you afraid of them?"

"Because if they find you, you're dead."

"Red's not dead. She was barely hurt when I found her." Barely? Granted, her arm may have been artificial, but when he saw it, he thought somebody may have shot her.

"They're weird about girls," Robin glanced down the hallway, making sure Red wasn't listening. "I don't know why. I have seen them kill over a dozen guys just to get to one girl," He paused. Then he added in a small sad voice, "They took my mother away."

"Where? Where do they take them?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "All we know is they grab them and we never see them again."

Murphy took all of this information with considerable caution. He had woken up in a upside down world and he didn't know who to trust or who not to trust. If wasn't careful, he might accidentally kill someone.

"Look," Robin said, still taking glances back to Red's bedroom. "I need to go back before somebody gets wise. Before the sun sets. Those guys you beat up are bored, bloodthirsty idiots but sooner or later, they're going to wonder why some kid here is all by themselves."

Murphy didn't want him to go so soon. There were many questions he wanted to ask, he needed to ask.

"Red will have to go armless for a few days until I can get materials."

"And now after you tried to slash my face, you trust me enough with her? Why can't you stay?"

Robin's face went hard and cold. He then asked with harsh seriousness, "Do you have a dick?"

Hell, Murphy didn't have a reproduction system anymore. He still produced waste, but his mechanical body could store the waste for days until he felt like disposing of it via through his left foot.

Like he was going to tell the kid that.

"No."

"Well, _officer,_" he spat the word out as if it was rotten. "Guess what? I do. The older men here have showed how to use it."

Murphy could tell something darker was lurking behind those words. That handsome face held pain and he was trying his best to keep such pain from Red.

"Are you her brother?" Murphy wanted to know.

He shook his head. "She's an orphan. I think she has an uncle somewhere, but I'm not going to bother finding him."

"Where do you live?"

"In the sewers," Robin faced the window, watching the sky. The sun wouldn't set for hours. "It's the only place the androids won't look." He looked back at Murphy, saw his displeasure. Then he said with a small smile, "As long as Red doesn't break any of the windows or tables, the androids won't come inside. Not unless they have probable cause."

"I need to get going," He said after taking another nervous glance out the window. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Hold on," Murphy grabbed his arm. "Were you the one who gave Red these?" He held up the bottle of sleeping pills.

"I didn't. My grandfather did."

"Why?"

"You have to ask him. I don't question his authority."

Murphy felt as if the question was too personal. He followed Robin back to where Red patiently sat. She had a book on human anatomy out in front of her. "Man, we're ugly on the inside," She mumbled to herself.

Robin gave Red another hug, whispered something in her ear and left quickly. "I'll be back tomorrow," He said to Murphy as he passed him. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," He promised. Though, now, he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to keep that promise.

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A/N: Nothing much to say except "sorry I haven't updated in forever…my bad."

Anyhoo, R/R!


	5. Chapter 5

_He wasn't under arrest. He didn't have the luxury of having a trial done by jury. His lawyer advised him this was for the best. That people were sacred of him. People would look down upon him and if he was judged by his peers, he would surly lose._

_Murphy did not see it that way. That black and white. He knew most people were good at heart. Probably someone on that jury, would understand his plight. Would look past the metal and chrome and see him. If one person did that, then he had a good chance for a mistrial._

_Judge Snyder was a tall, ugly old man. Set in his ways, the bastard was constantly under investigation for racism and sexism. There was never enough evidence to support these claims. Judges were supposed to be picked at random. Murphy suspected somebody had handpicked Snyder._

_He took less than an hour to decide on his fate. _

"_I've come to the conclusion," Snyder had refused to look at Murphy during the whole proceedings. "That Alex Murphy was killed in the line of duty five years ago. This…machine has helped the police force greatly during these past few years, but the many consequences of his actions have over shadowed that."_

It started to rain. From the window, Murphy watched as Robin left the library and ran down the street. A few moments later, the sky gave a deafening CRACK, and the heavens opened up and the ocean fell in.

The rain reflected his mood. Dark, grey and a little more than pissed. He felt useless.

Murphy clunked his head against the window glass, his mood darkening along with the sky. There were so many gaps in his memory. He tried again and again to resurface the past. Why is it, he could remember the outcome of his trial, but not the actual proceedings? Why could he remember the judge's name, but not the lawyers? And what the hell happened _after _the trial? Who turned off his power core? When did they turn him off? And why did they choose to delete certain parts of his memory?

Murphy knew all this information seemed to point at a conspiracy. It didn't make any sense, though. They deleted his memory so fifty years down the lane, he wouldn't have evidence? It didn't make any damn _sense. _

A small pop caught his attention. Red had made some sort of nest like shape out of her blankets. The loss of a left arm didn't seem to faze her as she expertly opened a small bottle with her right hand.

"Let me see that bottle," Murphy held out his hand. He wanted to make sure these were not sleeping pills.

"Why?"

"To make sure they're safe."

Red hesitated for a moment before handing them over. Murphy saw she kept one fat little pill in her hand, though she didn't put it in her mouth.

Pain pills.

"What other bottles do you have?"

At Murphy's request, Red pulled out a small leather pouch and handed it over to him.

There were seventeen pill bottles in all. Pills from pain killers to sleep aids, to vitamin pills of all kinds. All the vitamin bottles had a little red mark on them, while the pain bottle had blue and the sleep aid had green. "Who gave you these?"

"Robin's grandfather," Red told him. "He told me to eat the pills from the red bottles everyday. He told me only to eat the blue or green ones when I needed to."

Of course. Food was probably scarce here. Even in a city as large as this one, nobody would dare break into a convenient store in fear of the androids. Even then, with all these pills, malnutrition is still a heavy possibility. The body needed more than just vitamins, it needed calories, fats, and sugar. Was Red naturally skinny or was she malnourished?

Murphy indicated the little white pill in Red's hand. "Are you in pain?"

"I will be." She said. She didn't swallow the pill just yet. She placed the little medication on a chair, well within her reach. From there, she proceeded to take off her shirt.

She didn't bother to ask Murphy to leave the room or even turn around. Either the idea of modesty was loss on her or she didn't care. She expertly slipped her right arm into her sleeve, pulled the shirt over her head and pulled it off from her half left arm.

The girl was more than malnourished, she was starving. Her skin, naturally pale from lack of sunlight, helped illuminate each rib bone. Murphy was reminded of the starving children from Africa often shown on the Christian channel. He could also see one rib, from the looks of it, broke and then healed improperly. It stuck out like a sore thumb. A doctor was going to have to break the bone again or else she was going to have many problems. She had no breasts, only two small pink nipples, almost as pale as her skin.

Murphy's eyes were automatically drawn to her shoulder. To her false arm. As always, as technology took a step forward, somebody took a step back. Red's arm was indeed the wave of the future. But the person who had done her procedure had done it poorly. Very poorly.

She wasn't just missing her arm. Practically her whole shoulder was gone, replaced with steel and tubing. Where flesh finally met metal, the two clashed together as if one couldn't decide which should remain dominant. The two criss-crossed each other, much like a zipper. Skin above metal, metal above skin. Scar tissue ensnared around the steel, suggesting that she had this done a long time ago.

Red placed her hand over the white foam she had placed on the day before. She added a little pressure and the foam broke easily and fell off. The once ruptured hose spewed no more of the copper fluid. Red's fingers played around underneath her pit, apparently looking for something. She found it, pressed it, and the metal around her shoulder sprang open.

Murphy almost jumped at the sudden movement. Red's arm now no longer held onto her fleshy shoulder as it sort of slumped a few inches downward. Three fat tubes kept the arm connected to her shoulder. The first tube she disconnected gave an evil hiss as it parted. Red flinched. The second tube gave a weaker hiss as it fell. Red flinched again. It can't be because of the sound…

The third refused to disconnect.

"Shit," Red murmured, unable to twist the tube off. "Murphy, can you get this? I think it's broken."

Instead of squatting in front of her, he chose to walk behind her back. Red didn't seem to notice his embarrassment.

Murphy saw that the tube's slot been broken. Smashed in. He told Red this. "I can still pull it out with a little force. Is that all right?"

She nodded. She was shaking a little bit, her hand braced on the chair.

He thought about questioning her. He grabbed the tube's end with two fingers, tugged on it to test its' strength. Then in a split second, he yanked it off without effort.

Red gave a gasp of audible pain. The arm came off, falling to the floor. "What's wrong?" Murphy said worriedly. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Red said shuddering. She reached to the table, grabbed the pain pill and popped it in her mouth. "Once the arm disconnects from my nervous system, for a moment I know what it feels like to have it ripped off."

Murphy didn't have pain receptors in his limbs. OCP thought such a thing was useless. Pain from a broken finger or leg would seriously handicap a officer. If he lost an arm in the line of duty, his brain would register his arm was gone, but he would feel nothing.

"Are you in pain now?"

Red shook her head. "It only lasts for a second. The headaches that come afterward are horrible."

Murphy refused to let Red take another pain pill. He didn't know if she understood him when he talked about "over dosing" and "addiction." She agreed not to take the pill after some persuasion.

Taking off her arm clearly exhausted her. Perhaps it was much more painful than she let on. "Here," Murphy draped a blanket over her. "Sleep off the pain."

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A/N: Nothing much in this chapter. Bigger and better and badder things will happen in the next chapter.

Yes, I understand that this plot sounds very Terminator-ish (what futuristic-apoloclyptic-taken-over-by-robots doesn't sound like Terminator?) but trust me when I say there is a bigger, horrifying plot involved. It's also kinda stupid, depending which angle you look at it from.

Anyhoo, R/R!


	6. Chapter 6

_His lawyer was French._

That detail struck him so fast, Murphy wasn't even sure if what he thought was fictional or fact. He glanced over to the still sleeping Red, acting cautious as if she heard his thoughts. She didn't stir.

His head turned back towards the window. The rain splattered softly against the glass and Murphy closed his eyes. He went back to that thought, grabbing it, focusing on it. The fact seemed insignificant. He didn't care.

_Half French. Half American. _

Details slowly floated to him. He fought through the thick fog trying to keep his grasp. The longer he held on, the more information came to him.

"_Hello Officer Murphy," His lawyer greeted him with a huge goofy grin. "I'm Mister Steel. First name: Man of."_

_The joke was corny as shit and of course, Murphy grinned. Steel had a sense of humor, unheard of in the political world. _

_After the humorous moment had passed, he finally introduced himself as Emile Luc Steel. A well educated man, Steel showed no fear, no hesitation when he saw Murphy. After all, the cyborg can be pretty intimidating and it must took a lot for Steel not to flinch or look away from him. Murphy was grateful for that._

Murphy took in a breath. Forgotten emotions emerged from underneath him, making him relive that day. Steel was the fourth lawyer Murphy went through. His first lawyer, a woman, came onto to him and he fired her immediately. The next two, both men, treated him as an invalid. He fired them both too. Usually, a defendant was only allowed one and only one lawyer. Because of his police status, Murphy was able to go through the trash and found Steel.

_Because of the high profile case, the court only allowed a hundred people inside of the courthouse. Cameras and phones were forbidden and many people were kicked out for trying to sneak them in._

_The courtroom smelled of sweat and perfume. A number of admiring women found their way in, wearing short cut dresses and high heels. The air conditioning broke that morning and the extra heat lifted the heavy scents of the women's perfume onto everyone's clothes. Even Murphy wrinkled his nose when he entered._

_As soon as he entered the courtroom, a flash of light went off in his face. A bailiff cried out "Hey!" and threw out the young man who had sneaked in his camera phone. Everyone else stopped talking to each other and looked at him. Half of the people there burst out cheering and clapping. The other half screamed and booed._

"_We believe in you!"_

"_Murderer!"_

"_Don't lose faith!"_

"_Broken machine!"_

"_We'll back you up!"_

"_You'll burn in hell for this!"_

A crack of thunder shook him out of his thoughts. He lost his grip on his memories and he growled in frustration. He closed his eyes again, his jaw tighten. He'll be damned if he lost his grip on his thoughts again.

"_Why did you shoot him?"_

"_I had to," Murphy said to George Norris, the lawyer who was determined to shut him off. "I told the perpetrator if he didn't put down his gun, I would shoot him."_

"_You were worried about being shot? I thought you were bullet proof."_

"_I am, but-"_

"_Police officers are trained to shoot perpetrators only if they believe their life was in danger. Since you know you're immune to bullets, there should have been no reason to shoot Jacob Dirn!"_

_Murphy must've retold his side of the story over a hundred times already. At this point, he wasn't telling facts anymore, he was throwing up information. "Certain bullets are known to ricochet. Any shot he gave off had the potential to bounce off me, striking an innocent."_

"_What innocent? You cornered him in an alley."_

"_The gun he carried was fully loaded and he had shot at me before. Blindly, I might add. He could have shot past me, hitting anyone from a hundred feet away."_

"_Then why didn't you disarm him by…shooting him in the shoulder or the leg?"_

"_As I mentioned before, Jacob Dirn struck me in the face with a baseball bat. He cracked the computer filaments in the glass plate, damaging my aiming system."_

"_Were your eyes okay?"_

"_My eyes were fine."_

"_Then why couldn't you shoot him the regular way, the way _real _police officers shoot, by using their eyes?"_

_Murphy knew this line of questioning was required and reasonable. Still, he didn't like having his humanity devalued. "OCP built my motor functions to coincide with the computer. One cannot work without the other."_

_Norris spoke to the crowd as if Murphy wasn't even in the room. "Like a microwave without a socket."_

_A small number of people gave a few nervous giggles. Steel stood up. "I object to that statement."_

"_Explain," Judge Snyder said from behind his hand. He looked as if he would fall asleep at any minute._

"_Mr. Norris speaks to my client as if he was speaking to the wall; as an inanimate object. My client is a cyborg, half-human, half-robot-"_

"_Steel, the issue on hand is if your client's actions were considered reasonable. If you want to talk about basic human rights, do it in some other court. Overruled."_

_Murphy hated to admit that Snyder had a point. A case to argue Murphy's rights as a human could take years to resolve. And frankly, who wants to go to court every damn day?_

Unfortunately, this case did take forever to resolve. Murphy was wrong about his own timeline. This case did not last for a couple of days, it lasted for a couple of _months. _

Norris again and again kept bringing up the argument as a robot, Murphy technically wasn't human. At some point, the argument stuck.

_At some point, Murphy stopped caring. The publicity, the sensitivity of the subject and the numerous death threats Snyder, Norris and Steel received, became the main reason why this took so long. Murphy got tired of the women hanging off of him. He got tired of the cameras in his face. He even got tired of Steel's well mannered smile. _

_He wished he could bring a book. Or a video game. He would probably even fall asleep if he could get away with it. It was on one of these elongated, repetitive days did Murphy find himself in and out of consciousness. _

A weird feeling came to the back of his throat. He hadn't felt this in years. It was the feeling when your throat seizes up because the eyes will not produce the needed tears. A lump he could not swallow steadily grew larger and larger as this next memory formed.

_He found himself staring at his knees. He wanted to block out the voices of Steel and Norris and every person in that room. He wanted that man who kept whispering about his sex-capades from last night to shut up. He wanted that teenager who quoted every line from the Simpsons to shut up. And he wanted all the women in there who wore those fake press-on nails to rip them off because unnecessary tapping was slowly driving him mad._

_And as if God was hearing his prayer, everything went silent._

_Nothing can capture one's attention than absolute silence. It's a sudden noise that can create deafness. Murphy jerked himself out of his stump, raising his head to wonder what suddenly happened to all the chattering._

_People were now whispering in a feverish manner. They were pointing. Gasping. About what?_

_Murphy turned to look at what caught everyone's attention. _

_Oh dear god. It was his wife._

_He would later hear Norris had been stretching the trial out for exactly this reason. After the funeral, Ellen took their son and moved down to Australia. She eventually remarried and became an official citizen. Norris had been searching for her for months._

_It had been five years since Murphy's 'death.' And this was the first time he had laid eyes on her since that life-changing morning. There wasn't a day that past by he didn't think about her. He always wondered what he would say or do if he ever met her again. Would he kiss her? Would he push her away? Never did he dream their first (and last) encounter would be in the presence of a court judge. Or that she would be representing against him._

_Only thirty-seven and she was already graying. Her hair was pinned up sharply behind her head and she wore a simple purple suit with no heel shoes. She looked scared, uneasy. As Norris tried to guide her through the mob of people trying to surround her, for a moment, she locked eyes with Murphy._

_He did not have his helmet off, so he was unsure if she recognized him. She must have. She must have known who he is, why else would she be here?_

_She looked away quickly, her cheeks flushed with _shame? Embarrassment? Pity?

_Was his son here, too? He scanned the court, trying to find Jimmy. He would be what? Seventeen? Almost eighteen? He saw many, many young male faces that could be Jimmy. None stood out from the crowd._

"_I object!" Steel's voice cut through the room like a well carved knife. "Mrs. Alex Murphy has no part in this case."_

"_On the contrary," Norris countered. "With Mrs. _Jenkins," _He emphasized her new husband's last name. "…testimony, we can finally end the debate if Robo-cop here can be considered human."_

"_That is not our case-"_

_Snyder cut in. "Actually, Mr. Steel, you were the one who brought up that subject in this courtroom. If you want your client to be treated like a human, then we can debate if he is a human."_

"_Then I object to this new witness on the grounds I was not informed of her."_

"_You've dug your own grave, Norris, now live with it. Objection denied."_

_Murphy was still in too much shock to react. Steel whispered an apology to him and Murphy ignored him. He could not keep his eyes off his wife. As she took the stand, he felt the urge to vomit. If he could vomit._

_She took the oath, smoothed out her skirt and kept her eyes intently on Norris. Murphy knew she was trying to keep her eyes off him._

"_How long were you married to Alex Murphy?"_

"_Eight years," Ellen spoke into the microphone provided for her. Her voice did not match the fear on her face._

"_Could you tell me about the day he died?"_

"_Um…" She hesitated, grabbing a handkerchief from her purse. She did not use it. "I was in the middle of making dinner. My son, Jimmy, was watching t.v. when the doorbell rang. It was Alex's superior, Capt. Peters. He was Alex's Captain before he was transferred."_

_She paused for the next part, the next part everyone knew coming. Murphy could see it in her face, as her mind tried to force out the next few parts._

"_Peters informed me that Alex had been cornered in some warehouse near the industrial part of town. The gang who held him hostage shot him and escaped. Alex was airlifted to the nearest hospital where…he-he died on the operating table."_

_She screwed up her face, trying to keep the tears from coming. A couple fell, but she kept her composure._

"_What happened next?" Norris asked her._

"_The police refused to release Alex's body due to it was considered evidence. We had a small funeral. Buried a few things; pictures, letters, a couple of his favorite records. I waited for a while, hoping the police will release his body. After five months, I left."_

"_To where?"_

"_My cousin in Australia. I didn't want to go back to the states until they released Alex's body. Until then, I wanted to keep out of the public eye and give my son a new environment."_

"_When did you finally hear about OCP's new project?"_

_Her lips went thin. This is a subject she clearly doesn't want to talk about. _

"_I read about OCP's project in the newspaper, heard it from the news, people talked about…I was too busy trying to find a new apartment to care."_

_Something told Murphy that deep inside, she knew what was going on back home. She knew who was behind that metal mask. After all, she was there when he wrote his name on the OCP insurance plan. _

"_Mrs. Jenkins, you must've heard rumors back home," Norris carried on._

_Ellen shook her head. Her eyes said something else._

"_Didn't you find it odd that the police still refused to release Alex Murphy's body even after his killer was caught and killed?"_

_Ellen twitched and her eyes watered over. Before she had a chance to speak, Norris continued._

"_Isn't Australia known to be technology crazy? The news of this new super cop must have buzzed the papers for months."_

_Steel placed a hand on Murphy's arm. "Sit down," He hissed to him. "You're making the judge nervous."_

_Murphy had not realized he was slowly standing up. He wanted to go up there and stop all this. He sat back down reluctantly. _

_His wife was trying her hardest to keep the tears in. Her cheeks went red. Her body shook. Norris refused to let up._

"_I have papers from OCP who states that the body who occupies Robo-cop is Alex-"_

"_No," Ellen suddenly interrupted him. "It's not him."_

"_I have a DNA sample-"_

"No,_" She said a little more forcefully. "It's not him."_

_Norris walked over in front of Murphy and pointed straight at him. "Are you telling me, that the person behind that metal mask is not your husband-"_

"_NO!" Ellen lost all her composure. Eyes blazing, teeth baring, she stood up so quickly, her chair fell back with a large bang. "That is NOT my husband! Alex died five years ago! That _thing _sitting there is not human!"_

He did have the ability to cry anymore. His own tear ducts was replaced with artificial fluid, a more sophisticated version of tears. Crying was below a cyborg.

"_I've come to the conclusion," Snyder spoke slowly and carefully. "That Alex Murphy was killed in the line of duty five years ago. This…machine has helped the police force greatly during these past few years, but because it caused the death of Jacob Dirn, this machine is considered too dangerou . The machine known as Robo-cop will be decommissioned by the order of this court within a week's time. It's body will be handed over to the owners, OCP. It is by my order and the order of the court that Robo-cop is to never be commissioned again. Case dismissed."_

And that was it.

So it wasn't a conspiracy. It was just an accident he ended up here. He was never meant to wake up.

He wanted to vomit. He wanted to cry. He wanted to _feel_ something. Something that told him this was still his body. Something that told him he was still in control.

In the end, what did it matter? He wasn't human. He wasn't real. Why should he care?

His hands were shaking.

No. These are not his hands. His hands were taken away from him. His life was taken away from him.

He saw the window before him. Clean, fresh clear glass shined in his eyes. A surge of unknown anger welled up inside of him. He wanted to break that glass. He didn't care anymore. He wanted to express this welt, to show himself that he was, in fact, human.

And if violence is the only way to show it, so be it.

Murphy grabbed the back of his chair. He could see it so clearly. The chair hitting the window, shattering it into a million pieces. The chair and glass will fall thirty feet to the ground, and explode into a million shards of wood. It will make a spectacular, agonizing sound.

He would then proceed to the book shelves, knocking each one over and relishing the damge. He wanted to take the largest book there and rip it in half. Break the tables, smash the chairs, burn down every fuckin' building in this damn city and watch as each one fell one by one by-

"Murphy, what the hell are you doing?"

His violent thoughts came to an abrupt halt. The chair he grabbed, he held above his head and was damn well ready to throw it.

Red swayed on her feet. Her face still showed signs of sleepiness. Draped on her shoulder was one of her blankets and she lazily tried to keep it on.

"Nothing," Murphy finally replied. He placed the chair back down and sat on it. The murderous feeling he had up to this point suddenly died away and left him like a bad cold. He wished for the feeling to come back. He wanted the feeling to come back.

Red murmured something incoherently and swayed her way towards him. She awkwardly climbed on his lap, used the blanket as a soft comfort and buried her face into the crook of his elbow.

Anger began bubbling up again inside of him, and this time around, he forced it down. This wasn't the time or place to indulge in those feelings. One day, perhaps, he will go back into his mind and express that anger, express that hatred.

Not now. He had a bigger responsibility. And she was sitting in his lap.

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A/N: Was that long enough for you? The next chapter will be short. I think. I tend to lie to myself often. I know I said bigger and badder things will happen in this chapter…well, as you can see, I'm a dork. But it will happen! Soon.

Later.

Anyhoo, R/R!


	7. Chapter 7

French.

Every book was written in French. Not English, not Spanish, not even Latin. French.

Murphy had to groan. When he failed that infamous second language class back in high school, his friends had all snickered and said, "You're going to regret this one day!"

Murphy never knew how much he was going regret it. He always thought worst case scenario, he would make a complete ass of himself in Europe. Never once in his wildest dreams- or nightmares- did he ever consider the language as a barrier between life and death.

Poetic irony. He hated English class too.

But what exactly did this mean? Was he in France? In Europe? He had no evidence whatsoever prove he was. Nor did he have any to deny. All he had was the remains of his shattered memory to tell him. He was shut off in Detroit, the United States of America. That was all he had to go on. Without the evidence of plant life or animal, he had no idea where in the world he was.

Murphy bit his lip as he placed back another book he couldn't read into the shelf. He pulled out another book, hoping in vain his random choosing would get him what he needed. He wasn't even sure what he needed.

"Why are you a cyborg?"

Murphy looked at the one arm girl. Red was sitting on one of the overly large uncomfortable wooden chairs, flipping through a large book on tarantulas. She had already torn out a few pictures of the hairy little monsters. "I was in an accident," He told her, sparing her the gruesome details.

"What kind?"

He smirked. Apparently the word 'tact' does not exist in the future. "A bad one."

"Oh. Is that why you haven't shown me your face?"

Murphy wanted to steer the conversation away from himself. What he almost did last night still hung in the air. Through his self-loathing and rage he could've gotten the both of them killed. He didn't want her bringing up old wounds. He nodded.

Red frowned and went back to her erratic flipping. Her head down she said, "I don't care what you look like Murphy."

The cyborg pulled out another book from another shelf. It was an algebra book. "Then why do you want to see me?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's because seeing your actual face will make you seem more…human?"

He nearly flinched at that. It wasn't just the familiar words that haunted him; he didn't realize that with his helmet on he was making her uncomfortable. Red had given him her complete trust the moment they met and he didn't want to lose that. Not in this world. Not in this time. He couldn't afford to lose that. "It's not a pretty sight."

Red cupped her stump. "I've seen worse."

Murphy didn't doubt this. "I will need a drill-"

The girl didn't hesitate. She got up from the table, leaving her precious torn pages behind and scurried up the stairs.

Murphy sighed and placed another book he cannot read back on the shelf. He should find a language book and brush up on his verbs. He just hoped he didn't forget everything from his fifteen year absence from high school.

Red came back, not with a drill but with a screwdriver. She pulled up a chair next to him and climbed on it, coming level with his head. Although she had not asked him if she could take the screws out, he did not stop her.

He held the driver steady as she turned. The process of taking out the screws was mind-numbingly long but he did not argue. It wasn't like he had anything else to do.

Once they were out, Red hopped off the chair, coming to stand in front of him.

His hand rested over his helmet for a few seconds.

He took the helmet off.

He expected Red to take a step back in fear, in disgust or just plain shock. He expected her to flinch or gasp.

She did none of those things. Instead, she cocked her head, studying his face intently. Murphy, despite himself, squirmed. "Can I…" Red licked her lips. "Can I touch you?"

_Why? _Was the question. His face was merely there to give a softer look to his robotic counterpart. He could move the flesh, blink, but felt nothing. It was just meat.

"If you want."

Murphy leaned down as Red reached up. Her hand gently prodded his cheeks, touched his nose and ran her hand over his hairless eyebrows. The computer told him his flesh was being touched. Nothing more.

She smiled. "I think you're pretty Murphy," She said.

He almost snorted. Pretty. He thought he looked hideous.

Her eyes traveled from his face to behind him. "Robin!" She exclaimed, running past him.

Murphy turned around just in time to see Red throwing herself at the young man. Murphy saw that the boy was sporting a new black eye and Red hissed when she saw it. Robin brushed off her concerns, his eyes narrowing at her missing arm. When he looked upwards to glare at Murphy, the officer quickly replaced his helmet.

Robin said nothing as he dropped a duffle bag onto the table Murphy sat in front of. "I brought the supplies to replace Red's arm," He said as he unzipped the bag. "Red, I also brought some meat. Here," The young man then pulled out a plastic bag full of brown pieces of cooked meat, giving it to Red. "Eat. Then we'll get started."

Red sat down and began eating with gusto. Robin pulled out mechanical items from the duffle bag, carefully placing them on the table.

"Where did you get the black eye?"

Robin paused at Murphy's question. Something dark flashed in the boy's eyes and Murphy knew he had seen that type of look before. He did not like it. "That's none of your business," Robin finally snapped at him. "Red, come here."

The girl obeyed, plopping herself down to the chair next to Murphy. As she began to take off her shirt, Robin threw the cyborg a dirty glare and shifted the chair so Red's back was to him.

"Try not to break this one Red," Robin leaned over the girl's shoulder, quickly attaching on the metal limn. "This should last you for a few years. I don't have any skin masking, so the metal is going to gleam in the light. Watch out for that."

"I have long sleeve shirts," Red glared at him. "And gloves. You don't need to remind me each time."

"I told you to stay within city limits, but apparently you listened to me then, huh?"

Red flinched at this and they both fell into uncomfortable silence. Quickly, Robin went to work. While Murphy had watched tapes on his own transformation and the often repairs on his own body, he found them to be disgusting and downright disturbing.

But as he watched Robin began the slow delicacies of attaching Red's new arm, he found the whole ordeal morbidly fascinating. While he had no idea what Robin was doing- Murphy himself only knows the fundamentals of his own metallic body- it was clear as day the boy did. With expert ease of someone who has done this numerous times, Robin attached Red's new arm within a few minutes.

"Here comes the neural connection…" Robin said gently as he twisted something within the shoulder.

Red gave a hiss of pain then relaxed, allowing Robin to finish attaching the arm. He attached the three tubes Murphy had-not-so-delicately pulled out and he was done.

Red gave a face of concentration as she tested the movement. Her fingers twitched, followed by the bending of the wrist, then of the elbow, slowly followed with raising it high and bringing it back down. "It's a bit stiff."

"Wait a few days, you'll see a difference."

()

A/N: Rewrote this chapter about fifty billion times. It's not much to look at, I know, but trust me, there was shit jumping off the walls before I got to this point. I hope you enjoyed. R/R peeps.


	8. Chapter 8

"Who gave you that black eye?"

Robin paused momentarily in his movements. The young man took a deep breath and resumed his actions of replacing his tools away in the duffle bag. "That's none of your business."

"I'm making it my business. Who hit you?"

Robin looked on over to where Red was. The blonde girl was testing out the movements of her new arm by twisting off the caps of her vitamin bottles. He turned his attention back to the cyborg. "It doesn't matter."

In a different time, in a different life, things would've played out differently. Murphy would ask a few questions, assess the situation carefully. He would then give the boy his card along with a phone number. After that Murphy would keep out an open eye and try to read for any signs of future abuse and go from there.

But now he's living in this time, living this life. Murphy didn't have the luxury of waiting. He knew exactly what was going on.

"Robin," Murphy said in a soft voice. "Who is hurting you?"

The boy chuckled darkly. "Nobody is hurting me," He huffed. "Your job is to keep an eye on her. Not me. So just drop it."

"Tell me his name."

Robin's hand slammed down on the table. "Shut up!" He yelled. "It doesn't matter!"

At Robin's sudden outburst, Red jerked in surprise and spilled the contents of the pill bottle over the table in front of her. Murphy pushed forward. "It does matter. Someone is hurting you and I want him to stop."

Robin wasn't looking at him, he was looking at Red, frowning at her facial expression. He placed one last item into his bag, swung it over his shoulder and said in a much calmer voice, "Like I said, it doesn't matter. I have to leave now." He got up quickly as if expecting for Murphy to grab him.

Murphy kept his hands to himself. He watched the boy ruffled Red's hair. The girl asked what was going on and Robin ignored her question. Robin threw Murphy one last dark look and left.

Red was gaping noiselessly at his departure. "What was that about?" She shrilled. "Why was he so upset?"

Murphy didn't answer immediately, watching Robin leave down the stairs. "I'm afraid…" he began, not exactly sure how much he should tell her. "Robin is being hurt by someone."

Red shook her head. "What do you mean? I don't see any blood or bruises."

Murphy did not want to get into details. This future may have desensitized her beyond normal, but that doesn't mean he wants to add on to that."Trust me, Red. Someone is hurting him."

But…

What to do about it? It's not like he can burst into the sewers, guns ablazing. He didn't know where the fugitives were, who was hurting Robin, and for god's sake- he didn't even have a gun.

Even more, Murphy thought, eyeing Red's worried face, he couldn't just leave her by herself. Even if she had experienced long isolation periods, Murphy was not willing to leave her. It was too dangerous. He would not take her along either- that's just plain stupidity.

Then what about Robin? Was he just to leave the boy to his fate?

Fuck!

Red touched Murphy's arm. "Who is hurting Robin?"

"I don't know," he said, thinking it over. "He didn't say."

It was quite likely it was the grandfather. Most abuse cases, the abuser was usually the father, an uncle, or the grandfather. Even if Murphy wanted to rush in, guns ablazing, he certainly didn't want to hurt the wrong person.

Fu_uuuuuck!_

()

_Sleep sequence: Over in twenty-five seconds._

_Over in fifteen seconds._

_Over in ten seconds._

_Five._

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

Murphy woke up. He would never need to drink coffee or struggle to wake. Once his sleep cycle was over, it was over.

It was a brand new day in the isolated city and once again, Murphy thought he may be deaf. It took him a few seconds to remember the reason behind the lack of noise.

He stood, his hydraulics whirring loudly. Now that he rested, he wouldn't need to sleep for at least another three or so days. He quickly accessed his security system, scanning the area for dangers. He didn't expect any, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. The top floor of the library was empty like he expected.

Wait…empty?

"Red?" Murphy called out, moving over to her sleeping area. Her mass of blankets showed evidence of recent use, though the girl was nowhere to be seen.

"Red?" Murphy moved down to the first floor, expecting to see the girl hunched over the books she so loved to look through. He really should teach her how to read. It's not like he didn't have the time.

The girl was not in library. Murphy double-checked to be sure.

No way someone would have come in and taken her by force. His systems would have alerted him to that. So that only meant… she left on her own accord.

A million and one horrifying thoughts went through his mind. She didn't leave a note obviously, so where the _hell _did she go…?

No.

Dread went through him as sudden realization dawned.

No, no, no, no, no…she wouldn't be that stupid, would she?

Yes. Yes she would.

Murphy stalked down the library's front steps, looking to his left right immediately, hoping he would catch her form in the distance. Nothing but silence on all sides.

The sewers. Go to the sewers.

The nearest manhole was about fifty feet down the street. He scanned it and saw no traps, no planted bombs or other such devices. With one finger, he popped the manhole out, sending dirt and water grime over the clean streets.

He wouldn't care, but common sense told him leaving evidence of human for someone to see is a very bad idea. He took a quick second to scoop the grime into the hole, before lowering himself down. He replaced the manhole as perfectly as he could and climbed down.

Upon seeing the sewers, it was like a breath of fresh air, so to speak. The sewers were clean- impossibly clean for sewers, but there still was a measure of fungus and dirt on the walls. Who would've guessed Murphy missed the sight of filth?

The water that flowed through here was also dirty, brown and stale. The walls were made out of some new material, something Murphy didn't recognize.

He stretched out his scanners as far as he could, allowing echoes to bounce off the wall, alerting him to walls, unseen drains, and other man-holes.

God, he could be down here for years and never find a trace of the girl. Murphy had heard of criminals trying to hide in the sewers, only to get lost themselves and die of dehydration, suffocation, or they unknowingly cut themselves and infect the wound with gangrene or cholera.

But… if Red was down here, Murphy was going to find her.

()


End file.
